


Northern Exposure

by CesarioWriter



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anna (Disney) Loves Pop Music, DJ Elsa (Disney), F/F, Good Parent King of Arendelle (Disney), Lesbian Elsa (Disney), Not Beta Read, Pseudo-Incest, Step-siblings, Unrelated Anna/Elsa (Disney), Useless Lesbian Elsa (Disney)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-15 00:08:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14779872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CesarioWriter/pseuds/CesarioWriter
Summary: The world's favorite DJ has finally agreed to tell her own story! Elsa Winters career has spanned the last two decades and has encompassed award after award. Throughout, she has never before told her full story...until now. Come along the journey from Arendelle to Amsterdam, Zanzibar to Zimbabwe and learn what drives the most successful DJ of all time. Now with a special foreword direct from the DJ herself!





	1. Foreword

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by late 90's trance, raves, candy kids and a loose fic idea I've had since approximately 1998.

When I was sixteen years old, my life changed. It's hard to say now which event has had more impact on my life. Regardless, I wouldn't change either for the world. I would never have grown to become who I am now without the experiences I've been through.

My name is Elsa Winters. You probably know me best under a different name, unless you're a hardcore fan.

Most people call me the Ice Queen. In the last twenty years, I've released forty two albums and innumerable remixes, headlined more festivals and events than I care to remember, earned the Best Trance DJ award three times, successfully launched and maintained my own series of companies based around my brand, and most importantly of all, I've been able to successfully stay married to my high school sweetheart.

One of the things I've been asked about by paparazzi - and the few interviewers I've deigned to speak with - has been my long lasting relationship. From the start, it was considered salacious, though I've little idea why. To us it has always been simple and straightforward. But that is neither here nor there.

I hope that within these pages you can find some small answers that have plagued you. I have no doubt that there will be further questions.

Keep reaching for those dreams,  
Elsa "Ice Queen" Winters


	2. Drop the Beat

For most people, their sixteenth birthday is expected to arrive with a jangle of keys to some reasonably running beater, suitable for quick jaunts and sometimes for slightly longer trips. Typically running a couple thousand dollars at most, these conveyances were the height of teenage freedom and status. Some would receive a set of keys to a larger vehicle, such as an SUV or an old van suitable for tossing a mattress into the back, all the better for attempting to seduce others as innocent as they. Yet others would ask for alternates - a motorcycle here, a roadster there, and throughout the common thread. 

Freedom.

To Elsa Winters, freedom came not from the ease of movement. She had that. It did not cause her difficulty to traverse where she may, when she wished to be there. Far more crucial to her was the concept of mental freedom, the enticement of the soul to heights never before yet known. 

Reaching such heights did not require something so mundane as a car. 

That was why, for her sixteenth birthday, Elsa Winters asked for the one thing she knew would be crucial to allowing her to achieve that freedom. 

An Intimidation Blue mixer and a pair of Gemini PT 2000 turntables. 

All told, since she already had her headphones from her saved up Christmas money, it should come out even against the cost of a car. 

Maybe.

Regardless, it was the only thing she asked for, quietly and calmly, after the suddenness of her parent's divorce. She was fairly certain that there had been something more to it than the "irreconcilable differences" they had claimed. At the least, she was certain of it on the part of her mother. There really was no other explanation for why she suddenly was on a round-the-world yacht trip with a man Elsa and her father had never heard of before. 

Someone whom a neighbor had hinted at seeing around the house before. 

However it had occurred, it was in the past and Elsa would deal with the change. She and her father had begun to adjust well - at least, as well as could be expected. He was home most nights and would do his level best to make dinner with her. It served to help them keep some measure of togetherness in the upheaval that they had been forced to deal with. It was alongside her father that she discovered a talent for homemade stuffed burgers and, of all things, beef Wellington. Her father was a wizard with a piece of pork, especially if he made a mustard sauce with it. Of course, both of them were suitable for making a palatable plate of spaghetti with meat sauce.

On her birthday, the first since her mother had left, Elsa woke to soft strains of top 40 songs coming from the vague direction of the kitchen. She stretched and blinked up at the ceiling. Her eyes traced over the familiar dips and whorls of paint that textured her childhood bedroom. She was fairly certain her father had gotten her hints regarding the only presents she wanted. 

After all, she well and truly did not want a car for any reason whatsoever. 

Rising from her bed, Elsa tugged her shirt into position around her torso from its convoluted tangle. Allowing the fabric to drop loosely around her hips, she stretched again, relishing the feel of the carpet beneath her feet. 

She was definitely glad that her mother hadn't requested anything. They might have had to give up the house, then. 

Rubbing her eyes, she wound her way to the kitchen to find her father clumsily declaring there was a chickity China the Chinese chicken before he turned and spotted her, almost dropping his spatula in surprise. 

"Morning, snowflake!"

"Morning." She moved to the side of the island nearest the kitchen table, allowing her father the free reign of space it seemed he required. The sausages in the pan were popping and sizzling merrily, the lopsided pancakes beginning to have the bubbles in the batter set around the edges. Her hands wrapped around the earthenware mug of coffee her father had poured for her, the warmth seeping into her bones. She gestured toward the stove with her chin. "Pancakes look good."

Her father turned on his heel, his eyes narrowing at the pancakes before he slid the edge of his spatula beneath the pancake and flipped it with a slightly awkward twist of his wrist.

Neither of them was much good yet at figuring out the perfect pancake flip. 

"Got a big day planned, snowbug?" His hips swayed slightly to the beat of the music as he turned back around to face her. He paused, partially turned, to shake the pan with the sausages. He gave them a critical eye before turning his gaze fully on Elsa. "Gonna meet up with any of your friends?"

Elsa shook her head before taking a sip of her coffee. The richly flavorful liquid swept over her tongue warming a path through her chest. The first sip was always the best, no matter how hot it was. She took another, larger, sip before setting the mug down. "I was hoping to spend the day with you." Her fingers traced over the rough surface of her mug. 

"I'd really like that, snowbug." He quickly plated the pancakes after confirming their proper state of doneness, abandoning the spatula for a fork, which he used to quickly spear a few sausage links. He slid the plate across the island with a grin. "One of these days, they really will look like Mickey, I swear to God."

Elsa gave a soft laugh. "They look like Oswald."

Her father gave an exaggerated sigh, dropping his shoulders in mocking agony. "I cook and I clean all day long and this is the thanks I get? Mockery?" He shook his head, sniffling and wiping at his dry eyes. "Such a troublesome child you are."

Elsa picked up a sausage and made as if to throw it at her father's head. He laughed and she joined him before biting off the end of the sausage, humming quietly at the fresh blueberry flavor within.

Sixteenth birthdays are meant to be a rite of passage, some form of acknowledgment of reaching an arbitrary social milestone. It was the day when the aunts and uncles she barely knew told her she would become a woman, one of the stranger statements she'd been forced to suffer. 

It was probably for the best that her father didn't engage in such idiocy. Even if all she got to commemorate the day was a homemade breakfast and time with her father, she would be content. She knew it wasn't the deck she had requested and still, she was happy. Her father was a busy man, and to expect him to take time off so close to the holidays was a gamble at best. He did his best to always make her day special, no matter what. 

It was probably why she noticed that he was uncommonly fidgety as they walked down the street with their hot chocolates. His shoulders squared and he turned his head toward her, a nervous smile curling his lips. "I've started dating again."

Elsa took a drink from her hot chocolate, mulling over his words. She couldn't really fault him. The dissolution of her parents marriage had felt more like an acknowledgment than a true breaking. It had hurt, but the therapy they had gone to together had helped her to understand better where her father was coming from, and for him to understand her own thoughts. 

"Okay. Meet anyone interesting?"

He laughed, half breathless. He switched his hot chocolate to his other hand. "Not sure. I'd like you to meet her." He glanced over at Elsa, a quick darting of his eyes, before he returned his gaze back to the shops that surrounded them. "She has a daughter about your age." 

Elsa hummed. This woman would be around his age, then. That seemed positive. Better than what had happened to Wendy. The Darling family had fractured so badly that her father had ended up losing a hundred pounds and running off to be a stuntman in a pirate themed park in Jamaica. Every other month, he'd send over the money for his children. Wendy had confessed once that after John had graduated the year previous, the money had been reduced by two thirds. 

Her father's hand was shoved deep inside the pocket of his jeans, his shoulders hunched as they walked through the brisk air. 

"When were you thinking?"

"Today is your day, so maybe tomorrow?" His voice wavered slightly, but she couldn't tell whether it was nerves or guilt. The fact that he thought to keep her birthday as special as he always had may have been what spurred her suggestion.

"It's been a great day already, dad. Why not tonight, if they can?"

His grin was happier than she could remember seeing in a long time. "If that's really okay?"

"Sure." She knocked her shoulder against his. "Getting a chance to interrogate her is definitely going to be an extra birthday present."

He laughed and pulled his phone free from his pocket. The latest, slimmest model, It barely filled his hand as he flipped it open and quickly made the call. "Hey. Elsa and I were wondering if you would be free for dinner?" Elsa poked his side and he swatted at her hand. "Yeah, would seven be good? I'll get the reservation extended for you two? If she wants to come too, she's welcome to." He gave a short hum of assent as he reached over and poked Elsa's side. She swerved away from his hand, shoving it away from her all too ticklish sides. "Yes, that's right. Great, we'll see you then. Bye."

He flipped his phone closed and pulled Elsa into a one armed hug, pulling her against his side. "Thank you, Elsa."

Elsa nudged against his shoulder with her head and smiled. "You have so got a crush on her."

He laughed quietly. "You know what? I think you're right." He squeezed her close in a hug before dropping his arm. "Come on, let's get home and get ready. We've got a hot date with a couple of great women!"

Elsa pulled a face and shoved at her father's shoulder. "Dad!"

He darted off toward their car, his laughter echoing behind him.

At a quarter to seven, he and Elsa pulled up to the front of the restaurant. While stylish enough to warrant complimentary curbside valet service, it was also casual enough for them to get away with jeans and nice shirts. Elsa tugged the hem of her shirt down, smoothing out the wrinkles as best she could. Maybe she should have gone with something other than a flannel over a tank top. 

Giving an exaggerated bow, Elsa's father extended his arm. "Your Majesty?"

Elsa laughed, resting her hand against his arm. "Does she have any idea how much of a dork you are?"

"Dork? Me? Never!" He swung open the outer door, the inner door to the restaurant being held by two of the host staff. He turned a charming grin to the staff. "Hello! I have a reservation for Winters at seven."

The smile of the host did not falter as she set her list down and gestured to a young man waiting nearby. "Of course, sir, your table is ready. Shall we send the rest of your party through when they arrive?"

"If you would, please." 

Elsa barely cast her eye around the warm wood tones of the lobby, well familiar with the broad beams and high ceilings of her chosen birthday restaurant. The tradition of visiting the restaurant was one reserved for the most special of their family occasions, visited only in moments of happiness and positivity. She hoped this would bode well for her father's new friend.

They were led quickly through the dimly lit corridors, the heavy curtains draped against the walls keeping the din of fellow diners to a quiet murmur. Their table was in a secluded alcove, the privacy afforded a perk which Elsa had always adored. Next to her seat sat two gaily wrapped packages, festooned with glorious snowflakes and beautiful hints of blues and silver. 

"You sneaky bastard." Elsa glared playfully at her father, who shrugged.

"What? They just appeared on the wind."

Elsa shook her head and took her seat, looking eagerly at the presents. She knew well the tradition - they would remain there until after dinner and the cake that would be brought out by their waiter. She turned an eager grin to her father before a movement caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. 

Elsa turned her head and met with a full on view of a stylized Union Jack flag, emblazoned boldly across a pair of subtle breasts that curved the colorful word just enough to distort it. Elsa blinked, puzzling for a moment before recognizing the blockily printed word "GINGER". She could feel a flush rising across her cheeks as she jerked her gaze up from the loud declaration.

Freckles. The spotlit entrance to their table was filled with freckles, dusted across a pink cheeked face, glittering blue eyes raking over her seated form with an open curiosity and a free flowing mass of richly tinted tresses. 

The shirt made a lot more sense as she took in the loose waves of hair that cascaded over squared shoulders. 

Elsa took in the shy smile that began to curve into mischievousness, and pressed her own lips together in a tight smile. Concentrating on keeping her breathing even, she tilted her head in mute enquiry. As much as she appreciated the view, she wasn't sure why their space was suddenly being invaded by the - dear Gods above, she was biting her lip.

A large, warm hand landed on her shoulder, breaking Elsa free of the fascination that ensnared her. She had barely begun to turn her head when the words her father was speaking finally registered in her scrambled brain.

"The mute here is my daughter Elsa. Please, Anna, take a seat." 

Ducking her head, a lock of vibrancy obscured the sight of a teasing lip being bitten and Elsa released a breath. Then a slender hand rose, fingers brushing lightly and raising the obscuring hair away until it was tucked behind Anna's ear. A small sparkling stud caught the light and refracted throughout the air with a dazzling flash. 

Elsa dug her thumbnail against the first knuckle of her middle finger, pressing with all the force she dared. Her eyes tracked the movement of the trim form across the table, her shoulders turning to square across from her dining companion as she slid into the seat opposite. 

A bright flash of blue eyes caught Elsa solidly, pinning her beneath the split second connection with Anna.

Anna, who was here for her birthday dinner.

Anna, the daughter of the woman that Elsa was here to meet as her father's new friend. 

Her mind resonated with the knowledge, coalescing to a single, clear thought. 

Oh, _fuck_.


End file.
